


Everybody’s looking for something

by sleepy_fl0wers



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempt at Humor, Detective Leorio Paladiknight, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting to Know Each Other, It is now hehe, Leorio is long, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Phantom Thief AU, Phantom Thief Kurapika (Hunter x Hunter), Red - Freeform, Slice of Life, Slice of life with plot, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, and some themes such as uh, crimes and murder and stuff, im not funny that’s why it’s an attempt, is that a tag?, oh boy, random murders only, rated teen and up for swearing, that sounds so bad im sorry ill stop now, thats how light it is, the murder is only mentioned and no characters we know like at all, what is a slow burn fic if it doesn’t have mutual pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:21:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26099332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepy_fl0wers/pseuds/sleepy_fl0wers
Summary: Leorio's eyes widened upon seeing the next case file though.The case of the famous Phantom Thief, The Chain User, Scarlet Wrath.This wasn't a cold case. Actually, it was the equivalent to the definition of boiling hot. The latest strike had taken place Friday of last week after all.The Chain User had robbed a multitude of places. museums, research labs, antique stores. It almost seemed as if he had no pattern as if he didn't have a plan. A routine.Leorio scoffed. Lucky bastard.But he didn't really mean that.He let his hands ghost over the white pages, he let his brain linger on the information and taste it. This was a case he was fairly familiar with. It was a special case.It ended up on his desk because any detective that ever took it, got frustrated and dropped it. It was one of the cases that had the least small notes plastered over it, no one being able to decipher where the criminal would strike next, or when.Leorio frowned. It was weird almost as if…And then it clicked.It was almost as if Scarlet Wrath was looking for something.Aka. The Phantom Thief Leopika AU you didn’t know you needed!!
Relationships: Gon Freecs & Kurapika & Leorio Paladiknight & Killua Zoldyck, Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck, Kurapika/Leorio Paladiknight
Comments: 33
Kudos: 56





	1. Everybody’s looking for change.

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, thank you for clicking on this fic!! I appreciate it so much! You have no idea!
> 
> Second of all, leopika nation rise up ilysm all of u
> 
> Third, I would like to thank my amazing, incredible friend Red ( @a_red_head_woah on Instagram go follow them rn they are an incredible artist and actually working on some pieces of fan art for this fic so you can know what it all looks like) for beta reading this, I want to inform all of u they constantly asked me what color everything was and told me the information Leorio tastes in a moment of the fic tastes like chicken (very important info)
> 
> Fourth! 
> 
> I am wholeheartedly compromised with this fic, second chapter is almost done now, so don’t be scared of reading it I would sob<3 
> 
> Fifth! 
> 
> I really really hope you enjoy it!! Thank you!! <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leorio is currently looking for change, and the answer to that longing, will strike him as strongly as a lightning bolt.

Change.

There was such an intense fear towards change people had. There had always been. It was ironic, in every sense of the word really, after all, everyone feared or dreaded something that could never be directly dangerous. You shape change into what you fear, and yet it's not seen as something irrational.

And then there's those who long for change.

The people that feel the monotony of a daily routine smother them until they cannot breathe anymore. The weight of things being the same as the last day, the impatience, and hope for something new, for control.

Leorio Paladiknight was a part of the latter group of people.  
He hated routine, and he hated not having the choice of changing. 

Every day was the exact same, waking up, crossing a day on the calendar hanging on the empty white walls of his room (that at times didn't even feel like his room, mind you), taking a shower (in order to not only feel like a productive member of society but to feel like he had an option, a say in the matter, even if it was as something this trivial and uneventful), getting dressed in the same suit he wore as his uniform every day (even if he knew maybe it was good he didn't have to think about what to wear. You could ask anyone that knew him and they would definitely answer he wasn't the most sensitive person when it came to picking an outfit), and skipping breakfast, because come on, it's not like it actually was the most important meal of the day, that was just an invention to get you to buy things you really didn't need.

Same routine. Same day over and over again. Same crowded streets and loud cars with people who were following their very own daily routines.

He felt exhausted just by thinking of it. Leorio wasn't even a person that worried about things too much. He had always been good at making impulse decisions, at speaking before he could think through his words. After all, spontaneity was what broke the routine, right?

He walked to the detective agency he worked at, ready to be greeted with his daily dose of cold cases. He would skim through them, mindlessly filling forms and checking details and names, reorganizing his desk every once in a while.  
He waited patiently for the day he would finally be able to take a case, that he would be able to do something other than check through cases and deliver them to other people, knowing they would probably be back in his desk by the next month.  
Looking around crime scenes, helping make a difference in the world, helping people who were in need.

He grinned to himself. He knew his little fantasy was slightly childish, but at this point, his imagination was a few of the things that actually let him have control over something. Small scenarios were something he was used to by now.

It's the little details that keep you alive after all.

He entered the building, being greeted by the same grim color palette, smell of coffee, and lack of sleep. The interns ran around the place carrying important papers and looking like they had just discovered the eighth wonder of the world. 

'Must be nice to be a part of the action' Leorio couldn't help but think.

He made a beeline for his small office and sat down in his black chair immediately after closing the glass door, facing his desk and the thick pile of yellow envelopes containing all different kinds of information about people, crime scenes, and victims inside them.

Leorio had never been big on decorations, his office being mostly empty, except for the grey shelves holding books and binders, a small (and quite frankly horrendous) brown couch, and a neat potted plant Gon, one of his friends attending college, and Mito, the kid's aunt, had given him on his birthday. 

He had the essentials in his desk. Pens that really weren't his given he found them scattered and picked them up, asking around for the owner only to hit a dead-end and decide to keep them (after all, who had enough money to spend on brand new pens? Definitely not Leorio), packs of colorful post-its, and a few paperclips.

Nothing much really, but that wasn't a bad thing.  
It just gave him more space to work with the cases he had to deliver around to different people in the agency (and he would never admit to doing this to anyone, but checking the cases and thinking of small details and their possibilities was something he was quite fond of).

Alright. First case. He could manage this.

He checked the clock instinctively. It was only around 9 am. He couldn’t help but let out a heavy sigh, putting his hands on his head.

The agency was surrounded by a heavy coat of silence, only the clicking of pens and keyboards being heard, and if that was anything to be guided by, it just meant everyone was awfully busy, which at turn meant this would be a really tough day.

Leorio took the first case file, and read the first sentences plastered on the white paper inside it, flipping through the pages of details and gruesome pictures, dates, testimonies, the kind of stuff you would find when it came to the detection department.

He kept on, many cases going through his hands. From petty theft to kidnappings to gruesome murders. He had gotten used to this stuff, no matter how impotent not being able to take any of these cases made him feel.

The unsolvable closed cases were the ones he was used to seeing by now. He rolled his eyes, and skimmed through the case he could now recognize by name due to a large number of times it had been among the rest of yellow envelopes.

It was its fourth time on his desk in the last two months. A kidnapping of two teenage girls who barely were high school sophomores. That case was a complete mystery. By now, it had been through the capable hands of lots of agencies and detectives, and none of them had been able to solve the puzzle.  
He put it back in the pile, just hoping someone, someday would be able to solve it and bring some closure to the poor family of those girls. It had been two years now since they had gone missing.  
He kept on looking through the cases, reading through the names and suspects, through transcripts of calls and interviews and details with different handwriting from different detectives.

Leorio's eyes widened upon seeing the next case file though.

The case of the famous Phantom Thief, The Chain User, Scarlet Wrath.

This wasn't a cold case. Actually, it was the equivalent to the definition of boiling hot. The latest strike had taken place Friday of last week after all. 

The Chain User had robbed a multitude of places. museums, research labs, antique stores. It almost seemed as if he had no pattern as if he didn't have a plan. A routine.

Leorio scoffed. Lucky bastard.

But he didn't really mean that. 

He let his hands ghost over the white pages, he let his brain linger on the information and taste it. This was a case he was fairly familiar with. It was a special case.

It ended up on his desk because any detective that ever took it, got frustrated and dropped it. It was one of the cases that had the least small notes plastered over it, no one being able to decipher where the criminal would strike next, or when.

Leorio frowned. It was weird almost as if…

And then it clicked.

It was almost as if Scarlet Wrath was looking for something.

Something precious, something hard to find. Something so rare it could only be found in places that had dirty connections to the Mafia and the black market.

He got up from his desk as soon as his legs let him, speed-walking to the small kitchen with a few boxes of granola bars and a giant pot of coffee that was so diluted coffee-infused water would be the correct way to address it.  
It was a building filled with people that barely slept, of course, they would need tons and tons of coffee, and living in New York meant buying coffee was quite a luxury.

He served himself a cup, and immediately drinking it in one gulp, made a decision. He was about to change his daily routine permanently. He was ready to go for it.

He was ready to try and ask for the case.

Leorio left the cup on the counter and started walking towards the head detective's office. Detective Cheadle's office.

His breath was caught in his throat. This was the first time in a long, long while he felt this petrified. It was almost comforting really, after feeling numb and bored for so many months on end. He finally felt like the blood coursing through his veins was pumping. Like he was alive. Like he had something to wake up to do.

He knocked softly on the wooden door, casting his gaze downwards, and breathing as deeply as he could manage to calm his nerves.

"Come in."

He opened the door. This was it. He couldn't mess this up.  
She was looking towards a blackboard, her back facing the door. She looked like she was deep in thought.

Leorio had heard she was a tough woman. Someone serious and hard to impress. The kind of person whose eyes alone could intimidate you. He was extremely anxious.

"Detective Cheadle, I'm really sorry if I'm bothering you, but-"

"Oh! Leorio, is it? You're not bothering at all, don't be silly!" She exclaimed as she moved one of the pinpoints in the blackboard to the other side of a map. "Quite on the contrary! I really needed to rest for a second  
I've been staring at this blackboard for the whole morning…"

She finally turned towards the door, casting her calm gaze on Leorio's nervous face, a small smile grazing her lips. Her presence wasn't intimidating in the slightest. Quite on the contrary, Leorio would even dare say it was reassuring, parental almost, like talking to your favorite teacher in middle school.

"Please come in. Don't forget to close the door!" She sat down on the chair on her desk, placing her hands on her chin, and looking up with a smile.

Leorio's anxiety vanished in a second, being replaced with genuine excitement he hadn't felt since he moved to the city. He sat down on the chair awkwardly. Curse his abnormal height. It had its perks, but its disadvantages as well.

"I just wanted to say." He started, clearing his throat and trying to sound as calm as he could manage.  
"Scarlet Wrath's case has been through my desk multiple times, detective. I know a lot of people have tried to crack it and given it up, but I believe they're overlooking something." 

Cheadle's gaze shifted, from a calm security to an intrigued, analytical knife.  
Leorio had to swallow the knot in his throat before being able to continue speaking.

"I believe he is looking for something."  
Her eyes widened.  
"He's striking in specific places. He's being careful, covering his tracks by stealing random things from each place. Like he doesn't want us to notice where his next destination is."

Cheadle frowned, but she wasn't mad. Her eyes had gone far away along with her attention. She was deep in thought.  
She got up from her chair in a second, taking long strides towards the discarded blackboard. She stared at it for some minutes silently.  
Leorio didn't dare move from the chair, not a muscle. He could hardly blink as he held his breath. 

Finally, she looked back at him, her gaze sharp.  
"Do you have an idea of what his next target is, or what he's looking for?"

Leorio looked up surprised. He didn't, but he could find out with enough coffee and investigation.

"I believe I do."

Cheadle smiled, her determined eyes immediately filling Leorio with confidence.

"Well then, find the answer to either, or all of those questions, and the case is all yours."

Leorio could feel his heart skip a beat. 

This was the change he was longing for, and it was here.


	2. Everybody's looking for tranquility.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurapika longs for revenge and tranquility. What will he do when he realizes he can only have one of the two?  
> A certain someone might help him...
> 
> aka. our boys finally meet! and you can have some mutual pining Gon and Killua as a treat,,,
> 
> a biG THANK YOU TO RED FOR BETA READING THIS, IT WAS A TRIP THEY HAD TO DO IT 3 TIMES THANK YOU RED ILY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1ST OF SEPTEMBER!!! TIME TO MEET UP AT YORKNEW HOLY HELL!!
> 
> SMALL WARNING!!!!
> 
> At some point in this chapter, I briefly mention themes such as self-loathing and some references and metaphors to drowning.
> 
> if you feel like this might be disturbing for you, you can stop reading at "Kurapika looks at his hands." and continue during "The bell chimes again," ! , thank you!

The night was clear.

There was a light rain sprinkling around, the light air rushing through the open window, leaving a cold aura that made you want to get in your bed and not leave until the early morning arrived, the gentle twinkle of dawn and the sun's gentle golden rays cradling your face with a warmth that enveloped your whole body until all you could do was get up and pace around your living room, a clear blue light grazing the sky.

It was the embodiment of tranquillity.

And that's how Kurapika would have felt if he wasn't sewing a rip on his shirt at three in the morning. Tranquil.

That was all he wanted, really. A few moments to clear his head and feel calm and at ease. But that was impossible given the line of work he is in.

You didn't get much mental peace both working as a bodyguard in the mafia during the day, and a world-renowned Phantom Thief at night.

Kurapika couldn't help but roll his eyes at how romanticized that sounded. At how easy people thought it was. He was walking, corpse by now, insomnia, and stress not letting him sleep even if he wanted.  
It was nothing more than pure unadulterated lack of free time. 

He looked back to his opened laptop laying on top of the polished marble counter of his kitchen, the latest tab open on a science magazine article featuring the latest news on a pair of Scarlet eyes that had been donated to a famously recognized history museum. Deep down, he couldn't help but be relieved. This would be way easier than the time he had to break into an assassin's personal private collection.

He threaded the needle through the beige ruffled blouse, by now not having the need to look towards it.  
He was used to it after all. You didn't end up without a scratch after running from the police and the detectives that thought you were a ruthless thief lurking in the night in hope of stealing something, anything that can bring you whatever thieves look for. Money, power, recognition, whatever it happened to be.

All Kurapika really longed for was tranquillity. And the stolen eyes of his Clan, of course.

But out of the two, he could only have one. And he had made his choice when he was only a young, naive twelve-year-old boy.

His chest tightened with a bitter taste settling on his throat as he felt his stomach do flops, making him nauseous and lightheaded.

And then his brain registered he wasn't moving anymore, the metal needle still in his delicate fingers as he closed his eyes, seeing nothing but red when he opened them once more.

He tried to breathe in as slowly and calmly as he could. The knot in his throat only tightened further.

He would never forget this. Nor forgive it.

His jaw clenched and so did his fists. The back of his mind registered he might have pinched himself with the needle, but that didn't matter. Not at this moment. The only thing that mattered to him in this life was getting his clan back. His family. His friends. The people he had shared his life and his love with. The people that had shared it back.

Hot tears threatened to spill from his eyes, so Kurapika blinked them back. He hadn't let himself cry in years. The last time he had done it, it had taken him 4 hours to calm down and stop hyperventilating. Alone.

He curses in kurta, and while he thinks this might make him feel better, it just makes his loneliness feel heavier in his chest, an ache moving from his heart to his throat, and back to his heart. Pulsing. Beating. Reminding him of how he is the only person left on the planet that knows this ancient language. The last person in the world. He is alone. He is unhappy. He is restless.

But there's one out of those things he can change, so he wordlessly, finally opens his palm, blood greeting him. His brow stays furrowed.  
He leaves the needle along with the blouse on the table. He closes his laptop, the soft light that illuminated the room being extinguished, leaving him in total darkness as he goes to his room and climbs into his bed, not even bothering to change into more comfortable clothes.

Yes, the night was clear.

But Kurapika's mind wasn't.

-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-

The chime of a bell is what Gon's brain registers as he cleans the wooden counter of the coffee shop he works in. He knew part-time jobs while you were in college were a thing, as a matter of fact, but after insistence from aunt Mito, he was totally against the idea that it was time for him to actually get one. Besides, no one ever managed to get in a discussion with Mito and come out intact. That woman was as strong and fierce as the hunters Gon read about in his history books.  
He grinned at the thought of aunt Mito's gentle arms, and a soft smile.

The morning light softly filters through the clear glass doors, soft green leaves of beautiful plants in flower pots shining with the residue of water droplets that he used to water the colorful ceramic pieces just minutes ago.

Gon glances at the clock in front of him, a smile immediately plastering on his face. It's 8 o'clock. Just in time.

"Killua!" He exclaims, turning around to be greeted by the sight of his best friend carrying a couple of vanilla biscuits. The smell immediately filling the whole building (or maybe that's just the impression he got. Perks of having a developed sense of smell).

"It's so goddamn ironic. We literally have to open a coffee shop and yet I still need to buy breakfast for us? Not fucking fair" he mutters under his breath, and Gon smiles, because it's so painfully domestic it makes his heartache and leap in his chest.

All Thursday mornings feel like a soft comforting blanket. It's natural, and it feels right and soft and secure. Everything with Killua does, really. The biscuits are placed on the counter with a harsh groan.

Killua looks at him, the resemblance of a frown he's trying to keep on his face still lingers on his soft features, but Gon can easily see the corners of his mouth turning upwards as he fights a smile, so he slowly lifts his finger, and watches as Killua follows the movement with his eyes.  
They make eye contact, and Gon slowly moves his hand towards Killua's face, stopping mere centimeters before colliding with his cheek.  
Killua blinks, as he fights a giggle, staring intently at the finger before him. His eyes turn upwards again, back to eye contact. 

A silent conversation.

'Don't you dare'

A snort makes its way out of Gon's mouth.

'Don't. You. Dare.'

Silence.

And a poke. A squish.

The calm before a raging storm.

"That's it! This is your demise!"

Soft laughter as Gon leaps and runs around the empty coffee shop, dodging tables and chairs plopped on them. A scream.  
More laughter, now echoing from Killua's mouth as well as he chases after his best friend.

And suddenly, amongst the chaos, the chime of a bell.  
Gon and Killua go quiet, leaping away from each other as though they've been burnt. The gentle echo of laughter still lingers in the quiet room.  
Their eyes are wide and both's hair is a mess but they look so terrified they could have been confused for a couple of 12-year-old kids who had just been caught by their mother after breaking a window playing catch.

"I want to speak to a manager!"  
Their hearts stop in their chests as they turn around to face the door. But they calm down when they see short blond hair and an almost imperceptible smile, and there's only one person on the planet that could be so pretty yet so intimidating.

Killua sighs in relief, and Gon wheezes, bending his body forward, his hands on his knees. He falls to the ground, and Kurapika and Killua can't help but burst into laughter along with him.

"You scared the shit out of me." Killua finally says as he buries his hands in his hoodie's pockets, moving to his spot behind the counter right after kicking Gon playfully to make sure he didn't pass out from hyperventilation.  
He didn't, but there are tears in his eyes and Killua's heart fills with unexpected fondness as his ears gain color.

Kurapika can only roll his eyes, tucking his hair behind his ear, and adjusting the sleeve of his white shirt carefully. He looks at the two boys fondly. They have always been like his dorky little brothers, and his chest feels warm, but there's a faint ache that almost makes him feel choked up. Almost.

And before he knows it, he's sitting on the small counter and there's a multitude of people around him, ordering. After all, this is a fairly popular coffee shop amongst millennials that just want to snap a picture to upload to their social media and tag it with a quirky hashtag. 

He closes his eyes. He has more important matters he needs to focus on.

He managed to find an important auction taking place the next day at midnight, and he couldn't screw this up. The enormous list of illegal objects that would be in that place is not only mildly, but actually greatly concerning, and Kurapika lets out a quick sigh. 

He would need to be quick.  
Blend in, sneak in and out before the auction began, and that would be it. If he pulled this off correctly, he would take the eyes with him, and just like his title indicated, disappear like a ghost before anyone knew he had been inside the building.

He looks around, the cafe bustling with energy and calm, and can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy.  
All these people are free. Free from the horrors he’s experienced throughout his life, free from the curse of loneliness and from the pain.  
They were all free from the unimaginable pain he had to experience, knowing he should have been there with his clan when the tragedy took place. When they were brutally murdered.

Kurapika looks down at his hands. Stained hands with blood that wasn't his, that he didn't spill.

But he couldn't stop it from being spilled either, so he knows he’s not innocent.

He blames himself, screams at himself in the mirror, and feels himself losing to this feeling, being pushed to the edge of self-loathing and guilt. He stares at his hands and they no longer feel his. He rubs them together trying to convince himself he has control over them, trying to prove he’s not letting go, but only manages to sink in further. He feels like he is drowning every second of every day, and if he’s not careful, one of these days he just might stop trying to swim to the surface.

The bell chimes again, and he looks over to the door, forcing himself to disconnect from the discomfort his own mind can bring him at times.

A tall man in a navy blue suit strides in, and Kurapika’s gaze immediately follows his steps.  
He looks ecstatic, a big smile paints his face, his comically small sunglasses slightly upwards with the almost imperceptible crinkle of his nose, and he’s holding a heavy-looking black briefcase with red details on it.

He approaches the counter, and Kurapika can only frown when he listens to the way he speaks to Gon and Killua, who are chatting in an animated manner (or well. Gon is speaking while Killua can’t stop smiling. It’s the third time this week.)

“Hey brat!” the man shouts to get Killua’s attention, and Kurapika can barely stop himself from speaking up against whoever this moron is. His senses sharpen, and his undivided attention is on where this conversation is heading as Killua rolls his eyes.

He remembers the last time he tried to defend Gon (from an extremely unkind 40-year-old man that insisted on having a coupon for a free drink, while the cafe does not manage coupons in the first place), both kids talked to him about how they were not children anymore and they could defend themselves without his help. It was slightly discouraging at first, but it quickly became humorous as Killua told the man he would end his entire bloodline.

But this was different.  
This man was being intentionally rude and pretentious, and if there's something Kurapika loathed more than anything, it was pretentious people.  
But he tried to breathe, after all, he had made a promise, and his honor wasn’t something he took lightly-

“Hurry up kid! There’s no way in hell a simple black coffee can take you that long!”

Kurapika can feel his blood boiling as it flows through his arteries, and so he gets up from the chair he’s sitting on, immediately catching everyone’s attention to turn to him.  
The man stares at him for a few seconds when he sees Kurapika glaring at him like he was the person that killed his clan, and so he furrows his brow lightly.

"I'm sorry, do you have a problem?" He asks.

Gon turns his attention and looks like he's gonna say something, but Killua stops him in a split second, covering Gon's mouth with his hands and smiling mischievously.

Kurapika frowns, and steps closer to the stranger.  
"As a matter of fact, I do. What is your name?" 

The man is taken aback by the sudden question, but he straightens his back and adjusts his tie nonetheless. 

"My name is Leorio. Mr. Leorio to you."

Who the hell does this man think he is? Is all Kurapika can wonder. Now he's pissed. 

"Well Leorio, it's quite a shame you're unable to acquire class as easily as you can yell around like a child." His words sting with poison, and Leorio immediately takes a defensive position.

"Don't speak to me that way! Show some respect, you're clearly younger than I am!" Kurapika only scoffs, and that seems to make Leorio even more annoyed. Good.

"Fine then! What the hell is your problem?" Leorio puts his arms on his waist, and Kurapika wants so desperately to kick him and watch him double down in pain so he doesn't have to look up at him anymore.  
Leorio approaches him, digging a finger into his chest with a soft push, barely enough to even move him backwards, and yet Kurapika begins to see red around the room.

"Move." He hisses, his body shakes with anger as his fists clench. Leorio doesn't move a muscle, and Kurapika is beginning to get a headache. It's been years since he's lost control like this.

"I told you to move!" Kurapika exclaims, and he slaps Leorio's hand away from his chest and pulls at his tie. His neck is sore from looking up, and he's done with this discussion.  
He yanks at it, harsh and determined, and in a second Leorio is the one looking up at him as he lays on his knees in the ground, his eyes so wide Kurapika is surprised they haven't popped out of its sockets.

"You see, you absolute imbecile, my problem is that you're clearly treating my friends in an aggressive manner I don't appreciate at all!"

Leorio looks confused, and then he looks over to the counter, and so Kurapika follows his gaze, finding Gon and Killua staring at them. 

Gon has his hand over his mouth, he looks like he might intervene any moment now, while Killua is holding his arm, clearly stopping him from doing anything with mirth sprinkled across his eyes.

Kurapika can only sigh, and rub at his eyes with his hands tiredly. He looks over at Leorio, who is rubbing at his neck and breathing heavily. Kurapika probably choked him, and now he feels a pang of guilt rise in his chest, forming a knot in his throat.

After the whole frenzy is over, he notices most people have left the cafe, and the place is largely empty, 2 or 3 people sitting on tables in the far back, busy reading books and taking notes on their laptops.

He lets go of the tie, and Leorio looks at him with annoyance, but there's a tingle in his eyes he can recognize as fear.  
He immediately decides he doesn't like the way fear looks like in his eyes, especially if it's directed at him. 

He offers Leorio his hand to help him up, and he looks at him thoroughly for a second, before sighing and directing his eyes to the side, but nonetheless he takes it, and so Kurapika offers him a light smile.

"My name is Kurapika. And I'm really ashamed of the way I just behaved" Leorio looks down at him with surprise grazing his features, and Kurapika feels like he's choking for a split second. "As I can see, you clearly know this pair."

He looks over to Gon and Killua, and they stand really still for a second before disappearing inside the kitchen. He can barely hear Killua whisper-yelling at Gon to 'run before they get their asses kicked by the old man'. He can only smile, and when he moves his gaze back to Leorio, he can only see the same fondness shining in his eyes. That makes him smile even more. That's the shine he gets when he looks at the boys, and at that moment he knows Leorio is a good person.

"I'm sorry" Kurapika can't remember the last time he apologized to someone and sincerely meant it.  
"I wasn't aware you knew them, and they've had to deal with a lot from rude customers, and-" Leorio chuckles, and smiles back at Kurapika.  
"It's alright. I get it, really! You're a great friend, actually, worrying about them like that. If anyone spoke to them like I did I would choke them with their tie too, it’s ok"

Kurapika can't help the small laugh that leaves his throat, and he looks into Leorio's eyes.  
"So, how do you even know the kids? It's so weird we're both their friends and we've never met" Leorio speaks after a few minutes of silence.  
He sits down on a chair nearby, and after standing for a second debating himself on whether he should sit down as well or go, he walks over to the chair facing Leorio and sits down. Leorio smiles, and Kurapika feels his chest flutter.

It's been some time since he's made a friend. He didn't let himself do it. He didn't let himself get close to people often, it's not something he can afford. But this feels different. It feels natural and oddly right.  
It's such a bizarre way to meet someone, and yet Kurapika can only laugh over it.  
He didn't have many good people in his life or things for what it's worth.

This may be something adding to the short list.  
After a while, he feels tranquil.

-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-

"Pay up bitch!"

"Ughhh Killuaaaa"

Killua crosses his arms over his chest. He has a smug smile and his chin is up proudly and all Gon wants to do is kiss it off his face.  
He latches onto Killua's arm and Killua gasps in surprise as they both start tumbling down. 

"Don't be such a sore loser! I won! I said they would fight and they did! Kurapika fucking choked him!"

Gon pouts, and groans, tipping his head back 

"It's not over yet! They made up! We don't know how it's gonna end! They might actually fall in love and then I'll win and I'll get to erase that stupid smirk off your face!" Gon is dragging Killua down with him, and Killua can only laugh so loudly he's surprised no one has checked on them yet.

After he catches his breath, Killua tries to push Gon away from him, but he doesn't really apply any pressure. He genuinely really enjoys these kinds of moments with Gon. It's fun. It's their thing.  
He smiles once again before finally speaking.

"No! The bet was whether they would fight or fall in love WHEN they met! They already met! They fought! I won! Get over it!"

Gon frowns, and lets go of him. Killua suddenly feels really cold without the weight of Gon's arm against his.  
"You dumbass, it's not valid! It's a husband speedrun, they fought for like 5 minutes before apologizing!"

And suddenly he's being dragged by Gon to the entrance of the kitchen that faces the counter, that in turn gives a direct view onto the tables in the cafe.  
They peek like small children do, and he feels silly, but then he looks at Gon's concentrated face and feels a fond smile creep onto his features, no matter how much he wants to seem serious. Gon is his weakness, he can't fight how happy he makes them.

The big coffee shop is now empty except for Leorio and Kurapika sitting on a table facing one another, talking calmly.  
They laugh and continue to make small talk.

If you didn't see the fiasco from earlier, you wouldn't think they were fighting, or that they had just met either.

"Look at how they're looking at each other Killua." Gon is whispering, and Killua looks up at him, his eyes are full of determination, and he looks like he can see through the blond and the detective. Like he can see their souls and their deepest desires, and just know what they're looking for. It amazes Killua how perceptive he is. It entrances him.

"I don't think so" he whispers back and has to suppress a laugh when he's met with Gon's unamused gaze.

And suddenly, Killua has an idea.

"Look, let's make a deal, hear me out." He says, and Gon is suddenly looking at him, brown eyes full of wonder and curiosity. Killua wants to gaze at them for an eternity.

"Oh! Tell me!" Killua smiles, and detaches himself from his position behind the wall, walking back into the kitchen and reaching for his backpack.

Gon can only stare at him as he writes something down on a piece of paper, and excitedly hands it over to Gon after a few seconds. 

'Killua and Gon bet on whether Kurapika and Leorio will fall in love or not.'

Gon giggles, and looks up at Killua's amused face. He would do anything to keep that smile, to cherish it, and brighten up the room with it. Brighten up his heart.

So he walks to the counter and pins it to the corkboard adorned with pictures of them together, and some with Alluka and Nanika.  
Gon can only turn back to be met with Killua's mischievous eyes already planning something.

"There are some conditions though!" He interrupts.  
Killua's gaze bolts up in a second, and he's paying attention to Gon's every movement.

"One." He starts, and he pokes Killua's forehead with his finger. "You don't get to interfere with the bet!" Killua's eyes immediately widen, and Gon can only poke out his tongue at him. 

"That's so unfair!" Killua whines.  
“It's not!”  
“It's too!”

Gon was already expecting this. After their last bet, which consisted on whether Kurapika would ask for a manager if Gon's 10 Mcnuggets just had 8 (Killua had stolen two of them, therefore interfering and winning the bet), Gon had decided this needed to have some restrictions if it was gonna be fair.

"Second condition! You can't try to distract them from each other's feelings either! You don't get any type of opportunity to meddle with this! At all!" 

Killua frowns and inspects his chipped black painted nails.  
Alluka was really good at painting them, she had so many colors of nail polish it could be called more of a professional's collection than a 15-year-old girl's 'style stash' (as she liked to call it) 

"Fine then." He looks at Gon and smiles. Gon's stomach does a flip. "But you don't get to help those idiots out either! That would be unfair!" 

Gon can only smile and nod. He won't help them for certain.

But he might give them a teeny tiny push.

Just to make things really interesting.  
And this will definitely be interesting.

He needs to help them see what they're looking for because they won't notice on their own, even if it's right under their noses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FOLKS I AM DELIGHTED TO TELL YOU THAT IF YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT PIKA'S PHANTOM THIEF OUTFIT LOOKS LIKE YOU SHOULD DEFINETELY CLICK [HERE!!](https://www.instagram.com/p/CEUtDW3MqYS/)
> 
> MY LOVELY AMAZING BETA READER AND BEST FRIEND RED DESIGNED AND DREW THE CONCEPT FOR ME EVEN BEFORE THE FIRST CHAPTER WAS DONE AND ITS SO BEAUTIFUL AND AWESOME YOU ALL NEED TO ADMIRE IT WITH YOUR OWN EYES!!!
> 
> Please remember comments are not only greatly appreciated, but encouraged!! i read all of them, and they always make me smile :D  
> Thank you for reading!! i really hope youre enjoying it as much as i enjoy writing it, take care and see you in the next one!! toodles! :P


	3. Everybody's looking for control.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurapika gets his plan in action. Tonight he will victoriously steal the eyes of his Clan back. What could ever go wrong?
> 
> What will he do when something doesnt go according to his plan, because after all, no one has complete control of every aspect of things?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this update came a week late :(((
> 
> School started for me, and my mental health hasn't been at it's best, but writing this fic always helps me tons! And so do your kind comments, support and kudos. Thank you all so much, and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Once again, thank you to my friend Red for beta reading this atrocity! Love you to death dumbass <3

_And so the hunt begins._

It's all Kurapika can think as he jumps and runs through the roofs of houses and building complexes of New York City, the cold air hitting his face as he jumps steadily, and gracefully lands on his two feet, taking impulse to keep on running.

The inertia is in his favor, and so he jumps again.

For a second he feels like he's floating, flying. For a second he feels like he has control over every outcome, over everyone, and most importantly, over his own goals. Over his rage.

_'Tonight'_ he thinks. _'Tonight I will find you.'_

Tonight he will find what he's been looking for so desperately. Tonight he finds a pair of the eyes of his people, so they can finally rest in peace. So everything can be as it should.   
So they don't have to be on the bloodied hands of people that see them as nothing but fame and fortune.

He jumps again, and he can see the blinding lights of the auction house, a giant building amongst small shops and houses that stands with pride. Kurapika frowns, and he can already feel the rage filling his stomach, making him ache.  
Anticipation flows through his veins, and he adjusts his scarlet mask on his face and looks at the chains in his hands. He's confident. He has control.

He likes having control.

Control means you know what you're doing, and the outcome the situation will have, leaving almost no room for error in an operation.  
And he is damn good at having control too.

He is good at keeping his calm, and he's good at not getting caught. He is good at being invisible, a ghost. A phantom.

He jumps once more, and for a second gravity stops working, he defies physics as his golden hair bounces, tickling his frozen cheeks. 

He stops for a second and catches his breath, his heavy gasps for air filling the cold dead night.

He has been waiting for this moment for a countless amount of times, browsing, looking, localizing where the eyes could be. Where he could find them and take them back. Let them rest in peace after all those years.  
A place like an auction seems so easy, way too easy, at plain sight, almost like a lure, a trap.

The Scarlet Eyes are so valuable in the market, people kill for them on a daily basis, want them and the power and prestige that come with being the proud owner of a pair of them.   
The control it symbolises. If you have a pair of Kurtan eyes, you have the world at the reach of your fingertips. You have enough influence to murder with looks and take over countries with the simple raise of a hand.

Kurapika is so deeply infuriated by this fact. It burns and claws at his skin, the anger. It makes his pulse raise and his eyes glow in the same scarlet tone countless people yearn to hold in their blood-stained hands.  
It makes him want to yell and scream in fury and pain and most importantly, in grief.

And that anger is what pushes him to do this in the first place. It's the anger and impotence he feels at the fate his friends and family, the people he grew up with, that loved him and raised him have to face, living in a box, seen as objects after being murdered brutally.

Kurapika is not stupid. Far from it, actually. He knows this thirst for revenge will ultimately consume him, but he'd rather die knowing he avenged his Clan and the spilled blood of innocent people for nothing more than greed and selfishness, than to live with an empty fog clouding his eyes, leaving him hollow. 

_Who would be the selfish one if he just tried to forget his roots and the tragedy that left him alone?_ Kurapika repeats like a mantra, day and night the times he feels too weak, or too hurt, or too lonely to get out of bed in the morning. The times he feels like the world comes apart and a deep, endless hole has been dug in his chest, and he can barely even think, so empty, so unreal.

He's doing the right thing here. _He's doing the right thing here. He's doing. The right thing. Here._

_It's worth it. Keep going. You're almost there._

A bitter thought attacks him. He can't stop it, it flows into his mind like water through the crack of a door during a flood. It's out of reach, out of his control.

_Once you're done with this, there will be nothing to keep on waiting for. You'll be free to go. To stop. To rest._

But now's not the time, he reminds himself, as he finally reaches the rooftop of the prestigious building.  
Kurapika looks around, the dark cement camouflages perfectly with the dark blue night, the sky too cloudy for the moon to give off any light. He looks up, and as always, no stars.   
He hasn't seen any stars in the sky since he was 13, the city lights clouding it.

He lets his mind unfocus for a second, a feeling of dark nostalgia and longing fills his chest to the brim, a tight knot forming as a smile barely graces the sides of his lips. But the moment is soon over, and he needs to concentrate on this. In the present. On the eyes.

One breath, he counts. Two. Three.

And he ties one of the chains he brought with him tightly to a railing near the edge of the building.  
It's not that difficult, but the light breeze picks up, and Kurapika hasn't been scared of death any time throughout his life, but that doesn't stop the natural reaction of his mind swimming and his stomach filling with dread and pure _adrenaline_ as his body reacts, the gentle pinch of nerves striking him, because after all, he's only human.

He holds on tightly to the cold chain, his fists curling around it until his knuckles go white, the familiar sound of metal clanking against the rings and chains in his hand makes him feel alive, and so deep within the moment because quite literally, his life depends on him being focused on what he's doing.   
He is standing on the very edge of the building now, and he feels like he's being punched in the gut.

A fourth breath. A fifth.  
And then, he leans his body back against the _empty nothingness_ of the racing cars on the driveway 14 floors beneath him.

He breathes more times than he can count, and before he can stop himself with rationality, he jumps.

The vertigo is unlike anything he's felt before, and the cold air harshly cools his flushed skin as he keeps holding on tightly because _Dear gods if he let's go hes fucking dead,_ his brain urges him on.

He can hear the rattling metal chain as it falls, and when the sound stops he braces himself just in time for the momentum to stop his fall with brute force that almost, _almost_ has him slipping into the abyss -not really much of an abyss. More like a pool of lights as the cars race with speed.- as he sees his own reflection before him in a big glass window. 

He's unsecured, his brain keeps reminding him. You'll let go of the chain and you'll fall to your death, it continues on.

But Kurapika doesn't listen. He's too busy thinking. _What's next?_

And with a gulp, he raises his legs, and kicks at the glass, taking impulse, landing back harshly on the surface, that inevitably, cracks with a deafening sound.

He flexes his knees, and jumps again, landing with a brand new successful break.  
Kurapika can feel the rush of danger pumping in his veins, and so he takes impulse one last time, and when he lands on the large window, he lets go of the chain mere moments before he breaks right through it, small shards of glass splintering and scattering on the clean floor, while the rest of them fall through the air down on the road.

He feels like he can barely breathe for a second as he lands on the cold tile with a resonating thud, and gives himself a moment to cough out, gripping his stomach and checking for any place where the glass could have hurt him.  
Once he’s made sure he has no wounds, he gets up, the pointy shards of glass breaking into tinier pieces with a crashing sound under the pressure of his boots.

After the initial careful haze and glancing around to make sure he’s really alone in the fancy place, Kurapika can notice the room is absolutely beautiful, enveloped in a dim yellow lighting over the multiple displays with different objects and ornaments that range from -surely illegal- skulls of endangered animals to strands of hair from different recognized artists and actors.

The entire place is coated with false luxury that could fool anyone, but not him.  
It holds such a burning dread, filled with objects taken with no mercy, with no honor or respect by horrible, arrogant people for other people that are equally as horrendous and selfish.  
He feels like he might cry as he looks around the place, but keeps his sentiment at bay.   
This room screams and sobs with pain and anger. With pure, unadulterated suffering and despair, and in that moment Kurapika decides he will leave as soon as he finds the eyes, because if he doesn't, all this sorrow, the sorrow of the people that have been mangled and tortured might just consume him whole.

He gazes around the room, the wine-colored velvet curtains sinking over the tall, proud windows, and the air shifts suddenly, thick anxiety prodding at his chest with painful pangs. 

Now that he can lower his guard, once he’s sure he hasn’t been heard by any guards., it’s time to find what he's been looking for.  
He glances around, careful to not touch anything unless it’s extremely necessary, looking twice over every single object inside the impeccably clean showcases.

Until he passes something that glows bright red, and there's only one thing in the world capable of holding such a splendorous shade of scarlet.

Kurapika lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding in the first place, and for the second time since he broke into this place, the air shifts, and he finally feels like he is not suffocating to death. He feels grounded to the floor beneath him.

In less than a minute, he feels like he drowns in an indescribable emptiness.  
It surrounds him whole, swallowing him until he can only hear the cries for help of his Clan, the pleads for mercy in his native tongue and the cruel laughter of the greedy and unforgivably rotten people that did this, and he feels _so_ cold, and yet he can’t help but think he’s burning alive.

His breathing sharpens, and when he opens his eyes they glow a deep red filled with anger and grief so profound it feels like a knife that has been continuously stabbing at his limbs for so long he doesn’t remember what it feels like to not carry it in his back, to bleed to death agonizingly slow, all on his own.

Kurapika approaches the table where the eyes stand still, unblinking and soulless, and he can immediately feel his stomach shifting and flipping in pure horror, because they're staring at him, right through his soul, through his very being, and they're the eyes of someone he knew, someone he laughed with, someone he loved, someone who loved him as well.  
Just as they could be one of his neighbor's eyes, they could be his parent's or even worse… they could be Pairo's.

His eyes burn with tears as he clenches his fists at his sides and stops himself from spiraling down this echo of thoughts and 'what ifs'. He touches the glass of the case that holds the eyes inside them, sighs once more, and takes out a white cloth, the cloth his mother gave him as a parting gift, one of the only things he has left from her.

The case is too big, he realises. He can't take it with him, not when he has to climb up a dangling chain with the wind blowing like this. Therefore, he opens the case with not a sound, his breath held as he works through the wood with slow, gentle movements and trembling fingers, and before he can start listing the _hundreds and hundreds_ of reasons why this is _not a good idea,_ Kurapika takes the eyes, and in a matter of seconds they're inside against the clean cloth, and inside a small leather bag he is now attaching to the yellow sash at his waist.

His eyes close for a second, and he allows himself to relax and his heart to cease it's rapid beating. To taste this moment, this victory. The way in which he's managed to have control over every single outcome of this purely _batshit crazy_ idea

Kurapika's done it. He did it.

Now, he just needs to leave this place, and let the police find the giant hole in the broken glass window by the morning. They are pretty useless and moronic after all, he reminds himself.

And just when he's mere steps away from his escape route -the same terribly obvious broken window which he used to break into the auction house in the first place, _obviously_.- the locked entrance door slams open, and someone's voice is filling the complete silence Kurapika has been sinking into for the past half an hour or so.

And maybe it's the whole situation, and the fact that he hasn't slept in a couple -a ton, maybe around 15- hours, but he _swears_ he's heard this agitated voice before.

"Wait!" Whoever this person is exclaims with a shout.

Kurapika can hear the ringing of sirens from afar, and red and blue lights fill the view of the city in front of him, and in a second he feels so deeply and incredibly _stupid because how could he not notice those fuckers that call themselves 'justice advocates' have arrived with the tremendous mess they're making._

So, his sharpened -and still present with the shimmering of red anger- gaze locks on the responsible imbecile of disturbing his peace and oh so skillfully, carefully crafted secret plan of going unnoticed by the self-proclaimed authorities. 

And he freezes when he sees Leorio's face before him. 

He freezes in a way that petrifies him and leaves him speechless, even when his brain can only think of multiple curses in both English and Kurtan to shout at his face.

He chokes for a second, and he wonders if it's something he's going to do often whenever he's near Leorio, even if it's so unlike him, a thing he's never done with anyone before.

"Wait." Leorio breathes out, as he leans on his impossibly long legs to catch his breath. _Did he run all the way to the fourteenth floor? Kurapika wonders._

And he really should be leaving, if he knew what he was doing he would jump out that window and climb to the roof to slip out like the phantom he is, leaving no trace, leaving nothing to go after but the faint testimony of the man now in front of him.

But there's something that keeps him grounded, anxiously awaiting whatever Leorio is going to say next because _come on, none of the stuck-up prestigious detectives chasing him before has ever predicted where he's going to strike, and Leorio, easily the most average man he's met._ -you haven't let yourself meet many people, his brain reminds him, but _shhh, not now.- This man. This moron who he can so easily talk to and who has the capacity of making him laugh is now standing in front of him. Confidently._

Leorio finally straightens up, and looks at the thief's red eyes that glow with a fury so intimidating no words can describe the need he feels to get out of this room and run away as far as he can get.   
And he feels so dumb, he has absolutely no idea what to say.

Scarlet Wrath is standing right before him, analyzing him and staring at him and he can't help but feel like he can see right through Leorio and read his every thought.

"It's an honor to meet you." It escapes Leorio's throat before he can catch himself because he _means it._  
This talented thief has managed to escape so much, and yet Leorio is probably closer to him than anyone has ever been before.

Kurapika can barely suppress a look filled with incredibility, because did he really just say that? A detective that's been looking for him to catch him and put him in jail, just told him it's an honor to meet him?

"An honor?" He questions.

"Yeah. An honor." Leorio confirms and Kurapika feels so dizzy, he doesn't even know why he's still standing inside the room.

Leorio holds his breath for a second that feels almost fleeting, like it's gonna be ingrained in his memory for a _long, long time,_ before speaking up again after awkwardly clearing his throat.   
The air is heavy and brimming with tension so cloudy it can almost be seen as clearly as fog, dancing around them and the feet of distance between the two.

"I am Detective Leorio Paladiknight. I've been assigned to your case."

Kurapika feels like he's lost complete control of the situation now. He didn't plan any of this, he never expected this to happen. What is he supposed to do now?  
Making more plans that will only be spoiled is useless, he reasons with himself, and looks up, staring directly into Leorio's hazel eyes that seem to draw him in 

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Detective Paladiknight. I expect we'll be seeing eachother soon." He gives him a fleeting smile only Kurapika Kurta, not a seeked Phantom Thief can offer, a gentle gesture that escapes him with such neutrality he doesn't even notice it's been expressed.

He races, takes impulse, and once again, jumps. He latches onto the chain, climbing it with careful hands.

The wind hits his face, and his heart races so fast he can feel it pumping blood along with a shot of adrenaline through his limbs, through his arms and his legs.

He hears no steps behind him, and he can only wonder, his hazy brain lingering over unspoken words, because he doesn't look back to the window.

_This night sure as hell didn't go as planned. He lost control. He let his guard down._

_But he didn't mind. Maybe you don't always need to make sure everything goes as planned._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehe i finally learned how to use HTML Text and it **shows!**
> 
> Also yes, i did make a Kurapika is now drowning in an indiscribable emptiness joke and yes, i giggled like a five-year-old because i found it so clever and funny. I suck, I am aware lmao
> 
> But thank you so much for reading!! See you next week! Toodles!

**Author's Note:**

> WOAH YOU WERE ABLE TO COMPLETE THIS?! GOSH UR STRONG THANK U!!!
> 
> Feel free to stick around! Comments are greatly appreciated! Each and every one of them makes my day better, thank u so much <3 
> 
> Feel free to shoot me a dm on [my instagram](https://www.instagram.com/strawberrypandy/) or in [my tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/strawberrypandy) so we can chat about hxh or our love for leopika (u can even bully me into writing if u want!)


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